


Clash

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, M/M, Plug and Play, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:57:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blast Off and Onslaught’s first contact, long before they worked together or were even re-programmed as combiner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clash

**Title:** Clash  
 **Warnings:** slash, crack, PWP (kinda), smut (of the plug’n’play variety)  
 **Continuity:** G1 [part of [ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1), set in Kaon, pre-war]  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Blast Off/Onslaught, Vortex, Brawl (mentions of Swindle)  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Summary:** Blast Off and Onslaught’s first contact, long before they worked together or were even re-programmed as combiner.  
 **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
 **Beta:** [ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)

 **Note:** Written for the prompts “Collision” and “Beginning” at [120_minuten](http://120-minuten.livejournal.com/).

 **Clash**

***

 _Even if Onslaught recognised and remembered, Blast Off didn’t._

***

Onslaught leant on the counter. He gave a disinterested glance at the mech behind it, and checked his chronometer. He was bored, and almost drunk. It was his fourth cube of high grade in his hand and, if nothing changed, there would be a fifth.

He was in “the cellar”, a place in Kaon similar to a bar, but not. It was bigger, like a market - a market for everything from weapons to information to employment. The counter he was on was only one of many, and it wouldn’t be the last he’d go to.

Onslaught was looking for Swindle. He didn’t know for certain if the businessmech was in Kaon, but _if_ he was, Onslaught wanted to know where and why. In the past Swindle had often enough meant trouble, and Onslaught wasn’t fond of trouble in his city. Since arriving in the bar, he’d heard a lot stories and rumours, but none of them included Swindle.

He should have brought Vortex, Onslaught mused, it wouldn’t have been so boring. That, and the ‘copter was more successful getting information.

His intakes heaved air in an annoyed sigh, and he checked his chronometer again. He took another sip from his cube, and almost spilled the energon when someone ran into him.

“Hey!” Onslaught turned around to face the mech and saw only a black and purple back. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

It was crowded, and it probably wasn’t the mech’s fault, but if he was going to waste time in this place, then he could at least use this chance to vent.

The mech turned to him, staring down, but kept silent.

Onslaught had never seen this mech before, but it was a shuttleformer; he could tell from the black arm shields.

“What about an apology?” he asked indignantly. The shuttle simply stared, making no move to respond. Onslaught stared back.

For the slightest of moments Onslaught thought the foreigner would start a fight, but nothing happened.

The time ticked by, and the shuttleformer only looked at him, and although his expression was blank, his aura radiated clearly that he was unimpressed. After a few astroseconds that seemed to be much longer, he turned again and went away without a word, leaving Onslaught alone on the counter, now even more annoyed.

“Arrogant malfunction.” Onslaught muttered and emptied his cube.

\---

A few cubes of high grade later, Onslaught walked through the dark streets of Kaon. Swindle hadn’t been there. He should have, but he’d tricked the other mech and hadn’t shown up.

This would be a lesson for Swindle’s business partner to bring better arguments next time; preferably in the form of weapons and clear threats to use them.

So, it was another wasted night, where he’d done nothing more than get over-energised.

Tiredly, he rolled his shoulder joint and tried to relax, but his attempt failed when he saw a familiar mech turn into a small lane in front of him. It was the shuttleformer from before, and without thinking he followed. He had the urgent feeling that he should settle a score with the shuttle.

Onslaught stayed quiet. He only quickened his step to catch up with the foreigner, then reached for his shoulder, but he never touched it.

The shuttle spun, and glared at him.

Onslaught froze.

“What do you want?” He was addressed by a collected, bored voice that showed no evidence of fear, and that enraged Onslaught beyond words.

Who did this stranger think he was?

Then everything happened so fast.

\---

Onslaught had hardly ever met a mech like this.

 _“Don’t you know who I am?!”_

 _“Certainly a mech who’s had too much high grade.”_

Ironic, because the foreign shuttleformer had to be right, otherwise there was no explanation for his current situation. He was pressed against a wall. His optics fixed on the metallic sheets of the ugly building; the other mech’s body held him in place.

He had been surprised.

The foreigner hadn’t even twitched as Onslaught had drawn his rifle, but rather seemed to be pretty unimpressed - again. It’d been weird, and Onslaught hadn’t understood it, because the other mech was a mere civilian without inbuilt weaponry.

The calmness and indifference was as unexpected as the reaction which followed. It’d happened too quickly. Onslaught’s over-energised systems couldn’t react fast enough, and he found himself trapped between the wall and the bigger mech.

Only now, and with the other so close, he could detect the unease in the unsteady tact of the other’s engine. And Sigma, Onslaught had barely ever met a mech who generated such hard vibrations. They spread into his own chassis, and triggered sensations which ran over his sensor net and made him shudder.

When Onslaught extended his EM field involuntarily, the shuttle’s engine stopped for an instant, and the grip around his wrist loosened for an astrosecond.

“What is _wrong_ with you?!” This time the other’s tone wasn’t blank, but almost shocked, followed by a low rumble. Onslaught quivered again, and bit back a groan. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning towards the other mech. Must have been the high grade.

There was a moment of absolute silence, in which only the sound of two engines echoed through the alleyway. For Onslaught, it felt like an eternity, and for a time he missed the tremor on his back, which had softened.

Then the shuttle’s free hand carefully traced over the seams of Onslaught’s side plating, only pausing when it found his interface panel. The energy field of the other mech extended, prickling against his own, and another shiver run down his back.

A moan left his vocaliser, almost drowning out the quiet words of the other mech.

“Two rules: No talking. No touching. You break either rule, I’ll leave.”

Onslaught nodded, and in the back of his processor he wondered how the shuttle could stay so calm and his voice remain so steady. But the question became unimportant when his panel was opened, and the connection was made.

The first burst of data and energy hit Onslaught’s systems, his optics brightened for an instant and his cooling fans switched on. His fingers scratched the wall, trying to find purchase in the gaps and failed. Their energy fields mingled, and he arched his back as the vibrations of the other mech became again more intense, the noise of the other’s cooling system ringing in his audios.

He still blamed the high grade for his reactions. It had to be the high grade, if not he wouldn’t have an excuse. Not that it mattered right now. It just felt too good to think about it when wave after wave of sheer bliss flooded his body.

“Sigma, yes!” Onslaught muttered against his will, causing the shuttle to stop. The engine went idle, and the energy exchange broke.

“I didn’t hear you saying anything, did I?” The shuttle spoke near Onslaught’s audios, panting, the words laden with static. It was a relief to know that he wasn’t the only one who was affected by this situation.

His digits flexing and body squirming, Onslaught wanted to yell that the other shouldn’t stop, that he fraggin’ needed to _continue_ , but he didn’t. He shook his head, and uttered a whimper which grew into a long-drawn-out moan.

The answer was a soft chuckle, and the tremor began anew, running through both frames, driving Onslaught almost mad. He gritted his denta to hinder more words from escaping his lip plates, but it was so _difficult_ when the charge grew with every new rush, and pleasure was the only thing that existed.

The other mech pressed him harder to the wall; the bodily contact increased along with the sensations of the EM field, and Onslaught thought he’d lose it right then and there. He could hold off the overload for only one more wave, before his HUD exploded with warnings and his sensor net was overrun by sensations.

His EM field went crazy, and his body jerked due to the energy outburst. He was unable to control anything when a last staticky moan emerged from his vocaliser, and he would have sank to the ground but for the two hands which held him upright.

The shuddering body at his back told him, that the other mech had overloaded as well. The tremor was still as intense as before, and it nearly hurt on his overclocked sensor net, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

They stood there for almost a breem, before the shuttleformer disconnected himself, and took a step back.

Onslaught still felt a little dizzy as he turned to face the other mech. He didn’t trust his legs right now, even if most of the overcharge had left his body and processor, and the slight remains of the overload afterglow were the only thing which clouded his CPU.

Another moment of silence.

“This didn’t happen.” Onslaught’s tone was stern, although there was an underlying static.

The foreign shuttle looked at him for an instant and then shrugged.

“I’m only here for some business. I’ll leave in a few cycles.” He didn’t wait for an answer from Onslaught as he left the alley.

Onslaught gazed after him, and cursed the high grade once again. He was thankful that they didn’t know each others’ names.

\---

About four vorns later.

Vortex entered the room and stopped when he noticed an unknown mech sitting with the back to him. He turned to Brawl, who sat a few feet away from the foreign shuttleformer and opened a comm-link.

‘Who’s that?’

Brawl looked up at Vortex, then to the other mech, and shrugged.

‘That’s the logistic guy, I guess. Onslaught said, he’s the only one who doesn’t want danger money…’

‘Interesting…’ Vortex answered, and it really was. The shuttle was different.

He hadn’t even looked up when the door slid open, and had just continued reading. Tilting his head, the ‘copter observed the unknown mech a moment longer, and had the feeling of ‘distance’. It seemed as though the shuttle was not truly there, but far away, and ‘unreal’.

Vortex was intrigued.

Smirking behind his mask, he walked closer to the shuttle, being as silent as possible while doing so, and reached for the left arm.

“Don’t.” The shuttle said shortly, still staring at the datapad, unmoving, with a voice blank, but firm.

Vortex froze. He was behind the other mech, and hadn’t expected him to realise his presence.

“Is that a threat?” The ‘copter’s tone was much too amused.

“Just an advice.”

Vortex’ grin broadened.

Then Onslaught opened the door, walked in, and tensed.

“You’re Blast Off?” He sounded surprised, and shocked, and finally the shuttle looked up, but if he had perceived Onslaught’s uneasiness, he didn’t show it.

Yes, Vortex thought, he was highly intrigued.


End file.
